Release
by hues
Summary: His blood seethes after a kill.


After each major success Takasugi Shinsuke made sure the Kiheitai had a wealthy celebration full of drinks and good food. Takasugi would never be part of these celebrations, however, because he'd be in his room, relieving stress by using Kijima Matako's body.

Tonight was a special night. He'd successfully killed Sada Sada, the instigator of the Kansei Purge, the cause of Shouyo's death. He should have felt elated, invincible, and on top of the world but instead he felt angry. Walking up to Sada Sada's cell and seeing him sitting there defenselessly exhilarated Takasugi at the time and his body shook with excitement as he raised his sword to slice the old man's head from his body, but once it plopped to the ground Takasugi's excitement faded.

At first he felt empty, and then he felt rage.

So now he had Matako up against the wall with her hands bound above her head and her body exposed to the night's cool air. He'd shed himself of his own yukata, already sweating from the large amount of alcohol he'd consumed. His blood seethed. With salivated teeth he made marks onto Matako's skin, leaving her gasping and moaning with each vicious bite.

His hands left imprints on her wrists and her hips, surely bruising her tender skin.

She never complained about it and in fact, she relished in it. The woman had thrown herself down at Takasugi's feet the day they met and since then she'd wanted nothing more than to dedicate herself to him. He'd had no interest in her infatuation and even still to this day he did not care. The first time they got together like this after a bloody battle he'd said to her, "Tonight means nothing," and the fact still remains.

Takasugi could afford any prostitute he wanted and he surely made use of that luxury once in a while, but he was a man that did as little as possible to get what he wanted, and Matako proved to be the easiest source of release available to him. She enjoyed his attention no matter how aggressive and abusive it was.

The second Takasugi had Matako on the futon he'd started thrusting into her. She was face down with her ass above her head and in perfect position for Takasugi to take into his hands. She clutched onto the futon's sheets with both of her hands and furrowed her brows at the immediate tinge of pain she always felt when he first entered her. Her back was tense, her legs were shaking. Takasugi opened his mouth as he breathed harder and harder, thinking of all the things he wish he could have done back then to kill those that took his sensei away.

He wanted to be down in hell to torture Sada Sada and the rest of the pigs that followed him. He wanted to feel the burn of his own skin catching fire from hell's flames, and he wanted to feel that sensation forever as an immortal in the afterlife. He would cut Sada Sada's head off again and again and throw it into the fires. He would ask Zura and Gintoki if they would join him just once, and if they refused, he'd throw them into the fire as well.

Takasugi grabbed a hold of Matako's long hair and tugged at it gently, then pulled her backwards up to his chest. She cried out in both pain and pleasure, moaning bits of his name into the darkness. He snaked an arm around her to press her body tightly into his and pulled her head back just a little bit more so that he could see her face. His one good eye bore down into hers, and she smiled. "I love you, Shinsuke-sama," she said.

He frowned and then pushed her back onto the futon, and pushed himself into her as hard as he could. A shrill of pleasure ran down his spine at her whimpers, so he did it again, this time bending down to clamp his teeth onto one of her shoulder blades. Her ass pushed back against him and her insides tightened around his cock. He groaned, pressing his forehead onto her back and shutting his eyes tightly.

"Turn me over," she said in short gasps, her body shaking with every last ounce of strength it had.

He complied and in a quick flip had her on her back. He hooked her legs around his shoulders and thrust into her with a feverish impatience. He was about to come and he needed it quickly. Matako gazed up at him intimately and reached her arms out to pull him down into a kiss. He indulged her for just a moment until his body took control and shook rigorously. His hips rocked into a slower rhythm as he came inside her, holding onto her shoulders with a deadly grip.

He always came first. It was an unspoken rule of his.

She pleaded for him to quicken the pace again so that she could come, and now that his body was satisfied, he relied on pure emotion to finish the job. Each thrust into her was a thrust of his sword into his enemy's heart. Teeth were bared as he scowled down at her, drops of sweat fell from the tips of his hair and onto her twisted face. Her breathing paused then, and her legs went from his shoulders to wrapping around his body tightly, and then he felt her come. He kissed her so that she wouldn't make anymore noise, and then he pulled away.

The sheets were drenched with sweat just as his skin was and the breeze that came into the room sent a chill through out his body. He reached over to where his yukata lay and put it on.

Matako sat up and covered herself with the sheets. "I want to sleep here tonight," she said.

Takasugi went to clean himself up, making sure the bandage around his head was fixed properly and his skin dry. "I might try to kill you in my sleep," he said darkly.

Matako whined. "Please, Shinsuke-sama?"

And then he looked back at her with an intense glare. "We are not lovers," he said.

"I know that," Matako said with a frown. "But you're feeling lonely tonight, I can tell."

"You don't know anything," he replied, going to clean up the bottles of sake scattered around the room. He unlocked the door and opened it slightly as a signal for Matako to leave.

The woman huffed in frustration and gathered her clothes. "Goodnight, Shinsuke-sama," she said before dressing herself and heading out the door.

Once she was gone and Takasugi was alone, he buried his face into his hands. With a few deep breaths he calmed himself down and then grabbed his sword. He'd eventually fall asleep leaning up against the wall with it clutched tightly to his body, just as he did when he was a child.


End file.
